


Wear Me Out or Wear Me Well

by Roxxy



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banter, Bottom McCoy, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Leashes, Light BDSM, M/M, Post-Coital Cuddling, Rimming, Romance, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 11:59:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2850098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roxxy/pseuds/Roxxy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim sets his mind on fulfilling a fantasy McCoy had drunkenly confessed to him one night. McCoy protests... a bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wear Me Out or Wear Me Well

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Xyriath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xyriath/gifts).



> Welcome! This is my first time writing McKirk smut, as well as Bottom!Bones. It's written as a part of 2014's USS Secret Santa on McKirkFanCoalition up on Tumblr, and it's a gift for Xyriath. Hope you like it. :)
> 
> P.S. The title is borrowed from the song "Third Day of a Seven Day Binge", by Marilyn Manson.
> 
> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

 

 

McCoy was packing up the last of the supply cases when a set of fingers landed on his eyes. He let the box hang in his grasp and released a tight breath.

“Why do your hands smell like the insides of a Xindi Reptilian?”

The fingers retreated, followed by a noise of protest.

“How’d you know it was me? And how the hell do you know what an inside of a Xindi Reptilian smells like?”

McCoy turned around and gave his best ‘oh please’ look.

“That was the most colorful metaphor I could come up with. You know, being all distraught and nauseated by your hands.”

“Hey—” Jim squawked, sniffing the tips of his fingers. “They don’t smell half as bad. Besides, it wasn’t my fault,” he added, rubbing his fingers together. He put one hand on his hip and propped the other one on the closest biobed. “Sulu’s got a new pet plant. Some turquoise shit from Selah II. Really weird,” he murmured with a disgusted expression.

“Let me guess, he also made you touch it,” McCoy retorted with little interest, kicking Jim’s arm off the biobed. He placed the box of supplies there.

“He might have,” Jim replied.

McCoy peeled the gloves off his hands and tossed them to the bin by the stacked desk.

“So—”

“No.”

“What? You don’t even know what I was gonna say—”

“My—actually, _our_ shift ends in approximately three minutes, and you are down here instead on the bridge, which means—hell, if that’s not reason enough, then I don’t know. Either way, count me out. For whatever you got in mind.”

“This is not a one-person game, Bones.” Jim commented casually. “Well, actually, it might be,” he continued. “But it’s not nearly as fun that way. I—”

“For God’s sake, Jim.”

“ _Leonard_.”

McCoy turned around, raising an eyebrow.

Jim stepped closer to him, moving forward until they were nearly brushing their noses together. His hands outlined McCoy’s sides with superficial dedication and he exhaled into the same space as the doctor.

McCoy glanced around for any accidental witnesses. His cheeks darkened.

“Bones, remember that thing we talked about a couple of days ago?”

McCoy’s frown deepened.

“What thing?”

Jim’s hands came to rest on the broad shoulders under the blue tunic. He inhaled calmly, as if resenting the fact that he had to explain himself. “The _thing_.”

McCoy had a disinterested, yet confused expression on his face. A moment later, a light bulb went off in his head and his cheeks assumed a burgundy color.

“Jim,” he warned in a low voice, glancing around once more. His palms sweated. “Jim, _no_. We agreed we would forget all about what we talked that night. That strongly implies that you don’t _mention_ it,” his eyes blazed briefly. “Especially not here.”

Jim bit his lip and leaned even further in. His hips pressed tightly against McCoy’s. He let out a strangled little exhale, grinning when it resulted in a visible gulp from the doctor.

“Jim…”

A pair of wet lips chased McCoy’s mouth.

“You want it. Don’t even try to convince me otherwise.”

Fact was, he did want it. He had sworn to keep secret about his fantasy, but an unfortunate amount of Romulan Ale spoiled his plans and now here he was, fending off Jim’s crazy ideas.

“Bones…”

“Fine,” McCoy tumbled out. “We’ll talk later. Let me pack this up and I’ll meet you in—”

Jim’s tongue clicked a few times.

“Here.”

“Here what?”

Jim’s cheeks stretched and his hands tightened on McCoy’s shoulders.

“Right. Here.”

McCoy’s eyebrows rose and his lips formed an ‘o’.

“You wanna do it _now_? Here, of all places?”

“Yeah, here.”

“Have you lost the little sense that you had? ‘Cause, you know, I thought the basic knowledge that’s been lying in your brain for a decade or more was bound to be harder to purge out. But clearly, I was mistaken.”

“ _Bones_ ,” Jim’s tone exuded frustration, want and warning. “I. Want. To do it. Here. That’s an order from your captain.”

McCoy’s head tilted to the side in an unamused gesture.

“Now look, you little shit. Just because I am fond of you doesn’t mean I’m not gonna file a ten-pages-long charge against you, or maybe inject you with a lethal dose of Tellarite—”

Jim leaned in and kissed him.

“Goddammit.” McCoy mumbled into his mouth.

Jim pulled his face away and licked his lips. His hands still held McCoy’s shoulders in a firm grip.

“We are not doing it here, Jim. This is where I work.” He raised his eyebrows to emphasize his point. “And also, have you met me?”

“In and out, Bones.” Jim whispered, drawing a roll of eyes from McCoy. “Just think of it as your… Christmas present.”

McCoy sent his eyebrow flying again.

“Jim, nobody celebrates Christmas anymore.”

Jim snorted.

“And why should that stop me from giving you a present?”

McCoy rolled his eyes again.

“There are so many insane things in your little idea that I want to address, and yet, somehow, I don’t have the strength.”

“Bones, if this is not good enough for you, then what the hell _did_ you have in mind when you said ‘public place’?”

“Gee, I don’t know. Maybe a beach on Risa… that may or may not be deserted of all humanoid life forms.”

Jim snorted and chuckled.

“Now that’s just bullshit. Either way, we’re doing it here.”

“No, we’re not.”

“Oh, look, your shift ended. Which means,” his eyebrows twitched and his tone deepened. “It’s on.”

McCoy watched him retreat.

“No, Jim— _Jim_ , I told you… shit.”

The man had already disappeared into McCoy’s office, shutting the door behind him. McCoy shook his head and loaded the rest of the supply boxes onto the nearest biobed. His fingers were trembling with something other than anticipation, he tried convincing himself.

He was just about to yell, when Jim emerged from the office, carrying several objects in his grasp.

“What are you doing?”

“Prepping up.”

“Prepping up? Good God…” McCoy’s gaze landed on a pair of handcuffs— _handcuffs_ —and he growled. “Did you have that stashed in _my_ office?”

“No, Bones.” Jim placed the items on an empty biobed. “I literally just created them in there, by snapping my fingers.”

“Where the hell did you even find those? In the twentieth century?”

The handcuffs were old fashioned, with mechanical key hole and joints.

McCoy swept a hand in front of his face. “Look, this isn’t right. Anyone could come in here, at any moment, and then we can both kiss our starship goodbye.”

Jim turned around.

“ _Our_ starship? Bones… that is the most beautiful thing you have ever told me.”

“Listen, you infant.” McCoy’s brow relaxed. “There’s way too much at—”

“That’s the deal, Bones.” Jim stepped forward and held the other man’s waist with both hands. He let out a breath and looked into the doctor’s eyes, losing the playful tone. “When you confessed to me what you wanted, I was really happy. We were sharing stuff. And even if your idea of fun included getting whipped cream on a goat, I would’ve gone down to the planet and found a goat.” He licked his lips. “I staked against the goat, though. But, anyway… This fantasy isn’t gonna be as fulfilling as it should be if we do it half way. Anyone could come in? Well, yeah. That’s the idea. Otherwise we can go do it in the library.” He snorted. “Nobody ever goes in _there_.”

“Except Spock and Uhura.” McCoy grumbled.

Jim leaned in and brushed their lips together. His hands stroked up the soft skin of the doctor’s neck.

McCoy had a sad, resigned look in his eyes when they parted. He was staring somewhere through the window.

“My gravestone is gonna say: ‘Died because he was a pushover’, isn’t it?”

 

*

 

The handcuffs rattled through yet another attempt at breaking free. McCoy sighed in apparent frustration, trying not to give away the jittering of his nerves. He was kneeling on the biobed with his legs spread and his arms safely locked ahead of him. If nothing, he had to give Jim credit for being creative enough to have him tied up in a pipeless, stringless era of architecture.

“There…” Jim whispered, ogling the naked body on the bed. “Bones, you look like a treat.”

“I’ll just bet.” McCoy murmured.

“Interesting; your ass is matching your face in color.”

“Jim, god _dammit_ —”

Strangled laughter came from somewhere to McCoy’s left and he craned his neck to glare at Jim, but the man was out of sight. He was about to protest, but stopped when a heated mass covered his body from behind, limb by limb.

Adjusting his legs on the biobed, Jim stroked his way around McCoy’s body, exploring his skin and threading through the soft hair on his chest and belly. The other arm locked around his waist, keeping him close. Breath at his neck teasingly paved way to moist lips.

McCoy sighed and relaxed into the cocoon.

The moment he and Jim peeled off their uniforms, he became aroused. When he was directed to the bed, he felt his blood even in the most distant corners of his body. When Jim spread him out on the bed, his dick could already cut concrete.

Now, his erection was bordering on painful.

“I like you this way,” Jim whispered sleepily, nuzzling the soft strands of dark hair at his neck.

He tried to mumble something, but Jim interrupted his attempt.

“Lay down.” He commanded softly.

McCoy extended his legs and regretfully lowered his body to the bed, his entire weight resting on his middle. The contact against his cock sent a rush of uncomfortable pleasure through his nerves.

Jim kissed one freckled shoulder and pulled back, giving way to colder air.

McCoy shivered and dropped his forehead to the bed.

Soft, muted noises came from the other end of the room and Jim walked over to him.

“Raise your head.”

McCoy straightened as much as he could, regretfully pushing his hips forward. He closed his eyes to focus on restraining his breath when he felt something cool wrap around his neck. He dodged it by instinct, but Jim touched his temple.

“Bones.”

“What the—”

“Just relax,” Jim whispered near his ear.

A leather strip fastened around his neck to the point where it held back a lot of movement, but it couldn’t do any damage. Jim tugged the long end of the leash and McCoy embarrassingly noted that his dick jumped at the movement.

“Jim, you know I’m not into ch—”

“Bones,” came the word, followed by a hand at the small of his back. “Relax.” Soft lips slid down McCoy’s shoulders, leaving a wet trail behind.

The leash sat comfortably in Jim’s hand, wrapped around the back of his palm. There was no tightening.

McCoy dropped his forehead to the bed and felt the strain around his neck. He breathed through his mouth, aroused and irritated at the fact that Jim seemed to be taking things slowly.

Hot tongue worked its way down McCoy’s spine, followed by quiet noises of content. Hands stroked his sides; one warm and soft, the other one wrapped in harsh leather.

McCoy raised his head to take a breath when the persistent tongue circled his tailbone.

He knew where Jim was headed.

They hadn’t done anything like it before, and while the doctor side of him resented the very thought, the very human, very aroused part of him vibrated with excitement and curiosity. This feeling—this sense of openness was exactly what he had drunkenly confessed to wanting, and Jim—Jim was hitting the bulls eye.

Wetness spread down his ass cheeks, seeping down between and he shuddered when he felt a drop land on his perineum. Jim was making slurping noises.

“Shit,” flew out of his mouth and he swallowed against the restraint, closing his eyes as the tip of Jim’s tongue touched his puckered muscle.

Heat pooled in McCoy’s stomach and he could feel his cock leaking precum.

“Jim,” he panted, not sure what he was asking for.

Two thumbs spread his cheeks and the unrelenting tongue licked a strip from his perineum upward. Jim blew on the wet skin and sucked on his entrance.

McCoy shuddered and dropped his head to the bed, hips pushing forward and back successively. The leather brushed the sensitive skin of his inner thigh and he felt Jim’s warm lips at his balls. He moaned this time, squeezing his fists and tugging on the handcuffs.

“Bones,” Jim whispered in a thick voice. “You’re so beautiful like this.” He kissed one of his tight cheeks with a hum. “You have no idea.”

McCoy had a retort at the tip of his tongue, but he nearly choked on saliva when he tried to get it out. His face flushed in a warm red color and he closed his eyes.

“Jim—”

“Don’t even try to contradict me,” Jim said, packing a warning into a softly spoken sentence.

A kiss landed on his other cheek and McCoy breathed out, flexing his strained shoulders. The tip of Jim’s index finger burrowed its way into McCoy’s puckered hole and he bit his lip, rubbing his cock against the bed in frustration.

Jim knew his body inside out. He had mapped it so many times, learning each spot, crease and moan with equal delight and eagerness. It was embarrassing, yet McCoy relished the moments.

That’s why it took only a second before Jim extended his finger and curled it just at the right angle and McCoy cried out, hips jerking back and forth.

He _knew_ Jim was grinning.

The finger brushed up and down, circling McCoy’s prostate in a teasing manner. Pulling out, it returned with another one in tow.

McCoy panted, thighs flexing on the bed. His cock was dripping, the moisture seeping down the swollen head and to the bed. He wiggled in frustration, sweat breaking out on his forehead.

He was _helpless_.

Lord help him, that thought only made his cock harder.

Jim stroked his prostate in a lazy manner, caressing the trembling muscles in McCoy’s back and thighs at the same time. He planted kisses across the skin of his ass, circling the sensitive gland with both fingers until McCoy’s panting became shallow and erratic.

Both arms tugged at the restraints, hands flexing.

“Jim,” he croaked out. “Jim, if you don’t stop—”

Agile tongue curled against the muscle stretched around his digits and Jim licked with dedication, pushing in his fingers faster and rubbing harder. The other hand massaged the heavy sac between McCoy’s legs and each brush of the leather against his sensitive skin sent McCoy into a frenzy.

Pressure was building in the pit of his stomach and he yanked on the handcuffs by instinct, torn between the sensations against his prostate and the lack of them on his cock.

“Jim—”

The hand holding his balls yanked on the leash and saliva caught in McCoy’s throat. The same fist fastened in his hair and pulled, drawing out a low moan. Two fingers pressed hard inside his body and McCoy’s vision exploded in black and red spots. He cried out and shuddered, body writhing in pleasure.

The cuffs rattled in echo as Jim stroked his prostate until McCoy was practically sobbing with sensations, cock and eyes leaking with strain. Hot lips sucked on the spot where his neck met the shoulder, drawing another tremble from the exhausted body.

“Jim—no more—” McCoy whispered in a broken voice. The tremors slowly ebbed and soreness gradually arose all over his body. The limbs covering him lifted and the cooler air stuck to McCoy’s sweaty back.

He dropped his forehead to the bed and panted.

Goosebumps appeared on his skin as a voice tickled his ear.

“I haven’t even touched your dick, Bones.”

He sounded smug and almost in awe of himself.

“Jim, let me out of these,” McCoy mumbled into his cave, not raising his head or opening his eyes. “My wrists don’t share my dick’s enthusiasm.”

A soft chuckle drifted to him.

“What makes you think I’m done, Bones?”

McCoy exhaled into the space in front of him and tried to loosen his limbs. The possibility of any of his staff dropping by and finding their CMO like this briefly crossed his mind, but his dopamine fed brain quickly let it go.

Soft hands and a damp feeling on his back brought him to reality and McCoy opened his eyes, realizing he must’ve dozed off briefly. Clearing his throat, he ignored the heat in his face and decided he would deny the nap event until his last breath.

“What are you doing?” His sleepy voice betrayed him.

“What does it feel like?” Jim asked, comfortably perched on McCoy’s thighs. He was stroking up and down his back, smearing an oily substance across the warm skin.

Sensations began registering in McCoy’s brain, starting with an incredibly uncomfortable, itchy feeling at his cock and branching out to all of his limbs. Especially accentuated by Jim’s weight on his numb legs.

“Jim.”

The oil dripped down his ass crack, tickling his balls, and he tried shifting to relieve the pressure, but all it did was create more discomfort for his half-hard cock.

Good Lord.

Jim leaned forward and kissed McCoy’s cheek with a soft, wet slurp.

“Compliance looks good on you, Bones.” He whispered, nuzzling the wet strands on his neck.

McCoy closed his eyes, too exhausted to be embarrassed.

“Jim. We’ve been here for twenty minutes already. Any minute longer increases chances of someone coming in.”

“Thank you… _Spock_.” Jim mumbled into his ear. “But I don’t need an estimate, I need you to relax and do nothing.”

McCoy sighed and laid his cheek to the bed, noticing that the leash was loose around his neck. He glanced at Jim from the corner of his eye.

“Look, even if I wanted to, I can’t go again this soon.”

“Don’t underestimate your prostate, Bones.” Jim said with another kiss, this time to his shoulder.

He focused back on the massage and McCoy sighed in resignation, grimacing when his erection bumped the bed.

It took surprisingly little effort by Jim to get McCoy back in the state of complete arousal and shallow breathing. This time, however, he could feel Jim’s skin against his own. Heat sliding against heat. He closed his eyes at the feeling it created in his chest.

McCoy took a breath and slacked his muscles.

Oil was rubbed into his puckered hole and he groaned lustfully, feeling significantly less resistance when Jim slipped his fingers inside. Heavy ball of excitement settled in his stomach as Jim stroked his inner walls.

The tip of a finger touched his prostate.

“Oh fuck,” McCoy whispered into the bed, raising his hips to accommodate his swelling cock. His elbows numbly stuck into the surface and he scrunched up his eyes.

Jim’s legs settled on either side of McCoy’s hips and his erection slid up and down the slippery path between his cheeks.

A thick rasp in the form of Jim’s name left McCoy’s lips. He squeezed air with his fists and opened his mouth to let more oxygen into his lungs. He heard a shaky breath behind him, followed by the feeling of a blunt cockhead against his opening.

McCoy stiffened in anticipation and a low moan oozed out from between his lips as Jim slowly entered him.

“Yeah,” they breathed out in unison.

McCoy swallowed thickly and pushed his hips back, muscle stretching to accommodate more of Jim’s girth and length. Soaking in the sensations – the pain from being breached and the pleasure from being filled – he pumped his hips forward and cried out. The swollen head of his cock brushed against the surface of the bed and he arched back with a moan, only to encounter another thick flesh as Jim hit his prostate on each push, gradually speeding up.

“Oh God—shit—” He screwed his eyes shut and whimpered, tugging on the restraints.

Jim fucked him hard and fast, panting and gripping McCoy’s forearms tighter than the handcuffs. His harsh breaths tangled in McCoy’s sweaty hair.

“Shit, Bones—I’m gonna cum—”

It took no more than that. McCoy gasped and grunted as white heat splashed through his nerves, sending out balls of fire, and he came so hard he lost all feeling in his limbs.

Jim cried out above him and emptied his load with short, erratic thrusts, grabbing onto McCoy’s heated body wherever he could reach.

They panted for a straight minute, heads slumped forward, sweat escaping their skin in heated clouds.

“Nngh,” Jim blurted intelligently.

“Good God,” McCoy whispered. His voice was thick and sated.

Reaching over the bed, Jim grabbed a small old-fashioned key and unlocked each one of McCoy’s arms. The movement caused Jim’s cock to slide out of his body, which produced a groan from the doctor.

Instead of getting up, Jim laid his cheek on McCoy’s sweaty back and closed his eyes. His breaths tickled the damp skin in front of his face.

McCoy was rubbing the red stripes on his wrists when he felt the weight on his back increase.

“Jim?”

“Mhm?” A sleepy reply came.

Sensations awoke across McCoy’s skin; the itching under his belly, the damp leather around his neck. He folded his forearms under one temple and decided not to move for a little while. His heart was still racing, and there was a fresh layer of sweat on his upper lip.

“Thank you,” Jim mumbled after a couple of moments.

McCoy opened his eyes, realizing he had been dozing off again.

“For what, Jim?”

“For being a pushover.”

McCoy bent his leg and weakly kicked Jim’s thigh with a heel. It earned him a chuckle.

“You know that Enterprise isn’t deserted, right? Anyone could come in.”

Jim mumbled something indecipherable.

“I have a reputation to maintain, Jim, even if you don’t. So unless you get your ass up within the next ten seconds, I’m comming Spock.”

“What? No,” Jim said through a yawn.

“If I’m going down, I’m takin’ ya with me, Jimmy boy.”

Jim was quiet for two whole seconds before his amused voice drifted over to McCoy ears.

“You do know I used my override on the door before we got down to business, right?”

McCoy closed his eyes and propped his torso on both elbows, lifting a napping captain in the process. He shook his head.

“Jim, what if there was an emergency on the ship?”

“You’re welcome.” He unglued his sweaty skin from McCoy’s and leaned forward. His lips nuzzled McCoy’s neck before dropping a sweet, wet kiss there.

“Merry Christmas, Bones.”

McCoy rolled his eyes. Goosebumps were spreading over the skin of his shoulders and he glanced to the side, where Jim was already picking up clothes from the floor.

He met Jim’s gaze and gave him another shake of head. After another moment of looking at each other, McCoy’s expression turned into a fond smile.

“Merry Christmas, Jim.”

 

 

  

 

 The End

**Author's Note:**

> The reason I referred to Jim as 'Jim' here, and to Bones as 'McCoy' is because the story is mostly focused on Bones, and is - without being 1st person - from his point of view. Bones thinks of himself as 'McCoy'. Student McCoy, Doctor McCoy, Cadet McCoy, Chief Medical Officer McCoy, the younger McCoy, husband McCoy... Sometimes, he's 'Leonard' to himself, but those moments are rather rare. He's never 'Bones' to himself. :)   
> I generally match the formality tone in my stories, but here, this made more sense. Hope it did to you, too.
> 
> Merry Christmas!


End file.
